Through Glass
by cardboredbox
Summary: Shepard may have been clean throughout her time in the Alliance, but it doesn't mean that she's forgotten about it. When things get particularly tense, that's when she thinks about it the most.


She'd found memories were best erased with lazy white powder and a spoon; needle sticks and tourniquets. It had been years since Dakota had used the method—she'd been pretty good at finding other ways to cope—but the loss of Thessia and the Prothean data today had proven to be too much.

It was a technique best kept to herself—no one on the Normandy could understand or appreciate its effectiveness like she could.

Dakota had thought her recent purchase back on the Citadel a little strange, at first. Some days she'd considered just letting it go—but she wasn't strong enough. The drug was a failsafe—she knew herself and knew that she couldn't keep the demons bottled up forever.

It was better just to forget them for a while.

A hot tingle trickled through her blood and up the back of her head; the warmth built slowly and pooled in the base of her brain until she crested; it crashed like a wave down through her heart and slammed into her nerves like lightning.

Dakota's world started to spin and crumble down around her as the blissful blackness began to overwhelm her. She oozed off the couch cushions and slithered onto the floor behind her coffee table with a deep, breathless sigh.

She'd needed this numbing darkness for months now and found comfort in the drug's soothing embrace.

Her vision started to haze and her eyes grew heavy; she reached out a boneless arm and skirted weak fingers along her needle. She wasn't trying to hide it from anyone else but herself—she was trying to keep it out of sight, away from the eyes of her shame and guilt. Dakota tried to flick the plastic syringe underneath her couch as best she could…

But her consciousness was already lifting and separating from her body, lying on top of her like an oily film. She gave up moving and shut her eyes, little ripples of pleasure beading sweat on her brow and flooding warmth through her lead-like appendages.

There was no more Cerberus now.  
No more Kai Leng.  
No more Reapers.  
No more Thessia…

Just her weakness, her failure, and her drugs.

The mess hall was uncomfortably somber that evening. Nobody was eating; they were just moving food around their plates and exchanging quick, furtive glances with one another, instead. It felt like an awkward silence had draped over the table and blanketed them all.

Kaidan's elbows rested on the table and he laced his fingers together tightly, staring a blank hole through the galley as he mulled over Cerberus and the loss of the prothean data.

He thought about the destruction on Thessia and his reaction, or rather, lack thereof. He'd already steeled himself and expected the worst, so the buildings cascading and crumbling into the rising columns of flames didn't faze him. He felt _bad_ for Liara, sure. But not shocked.

The Reapers were destroying the whole galaxy. So that made Thessia no different than Earth.

There was a sliver of frustration stuck like a splinter in his heart, though. Liara was given the luxury to take a moment of pause, and grieve for her loss; he and 'Kota were never given the chance. The two of them were expected to march on towards a solution and to not look back. They couldn't afford to let their misery get the better of them.

"Major Alenko—"

The voice yanked him out of his troubled thoughts. Kaidan snapped his gaze to the man sitting adjacent to him; Cortez stared back, blue eyes creasing with slight concern.

"I've been on this deck since we got back and haven't seen Shepard _once_. I thought she was with you…"

A cold shard of dread tore into his lungs. _I left her alone because she had to give Hackett a status report. And then I went down to Engineering to speak with Adams…_ "No…I haven't." His voice trailed off for a moment. "I figured she would've gone to sit with you after The Admiral cut her loose."

The somber shuttle pilot shook his head slowly. "I'm a little…worried."

"Mmh." Kaidan grunted and rose from his seat. "She's probably asleep. I'll get her."

The silence was unbearably thick now—it crawled up the back of his neck and made him bristle; he tried to smooth the rise in his hackles, rubbing them down with a heavy hand. Kaidan turned on his heels and hurried into the elevator.

'Kota was probably asleep, bundled up in her fish blanket, with a bloodied lip and salt trails crusted on her cheeks.

Guilt pressed onto his heart at the thought—if he knew her well enough to visualize her despair, then he should've known this was a time she would've needed him most.

The doors to her cabin slid open with a hiss and he wandered in, brows knitting over pensive eyes. She wasn't on her bed.

He held his breath and listened for a moment:

Nothing. No quiet sobs, no ragged coughs, no running water, no tears—

"'Kota?"

—No answer, either.

He stalked deeper into the shadows, scanning the couch…

Kaidan's breath hitched high in his throat when he saw the limp hand on the floor, against the leg of the coffee table.

"Oh god!"

He charged over to her in two panicked strides, knocking her table half-way across the room in the process.

A million and one thoughts surged through his mind while unadulterated horror spiked his veins. His face paled as he lifted her loose body into his arms and into a sitting position. Her head was heavy and it jostled at the neck when he tried to shake her lightly.

"'Kota! 'Kota, answer me! Hey!"

Her mocha hair was flat and plastered onto her face and neck, glued to her colorless skin with a thick coat of sweat; there was no blood on her parted lips, only a stream of saliva trailing down the side of her cheek and jaw, gravity slowly pulling it into her ear as her head lolled back over his arm.

"'Kota!" He placed a big hand between her ribs, tips of his fingers dusting her sternum as he gave her chest a few rubs. "Come on, 'Kota! Wake up!" Her shirt clung to her damp body as he continued to try and rouse her. "Snap out of it!"

She didn't respond. Her heart hadn't even lifted to answer his touch.

Fear gripped him and stung his eyes.

_This isn't real.  
It's not possible.  
She'd never die here, on the Normandy.  
No. No way.  
_  
Kaidan grit his teeth and tightened his hold on her; in a last-ditch effort to wake her up and pull himself out of his own nightmare, he dug his knuckles into her breastbone and plowed them upwards as hard as he could.

"DAKOTA!"

'Kota's eyes slit open; he could barely make out the dark chocolate through her lashes. She stared through him, glazed over and haunted.

"'Kota! What—what happened?"

She took in a slow and shallow breath and continued to look passed him, as though she was blind.

Tears started to well in the creases of her eyes and slowly rolled down her cheeks. They crashed shut and he flattened his hand between her ribs once more. "No, stay with me—_don't you dare pass out_! 'Kota—'Kota—I'm talking to you!"

'Kota's upper lip flinched, and then her throat started to tremble. A tiny voice, somewhere deep inside her lungs rattled, "_I'mwake…can'keepem'myes op'n._" She took in another shallow breath and struggled to speak. "_K...Ka'dn…sr…rry…mn…str…I'm…I'm…a…_" The droplets of saline grew bigger, dripping down her face and onto his arm.

She managed to open her eyes a little wider this time, and look up at him with chocolate-covered pinpoint pupils. "_Sssso…f'knn…hiiighhhh…_"

He used his free arm and wiped her face with the back of a wrist while gaping down at her in disbelief. Did _Commander Dakota Shepard _just tell him that she was _high_?

Kaidan scanned their surroundings in search of the cause. It had to be around here somewhere…

A spoon glistened in the light and caught his eye—it was partially hidden beneath the couch with a small tourniquet bunched up beside it (did she steal that from Chakwas?) and then…then there was the culprit, resting in a little bag.

_Heroin._

Kaidan had never seen the drug in person, but he'd heard enough about it over the years to know the kind of power it wielded.

His heart broke as he took a closer look at her shattered soul.

_How could I have missed the cracks?_

Now he realized how delicate and brittle her relationship with addiction really was. It had been built upon a foundation of glass:

Akuze had been the first chip, a crooked fracture filled with temptation. Virmire was the next break in the foundation, the doubt of her decisions widened the berth. The weight of Horizon chiseled away at the already fragile layer. Her willpower was laced together by a single thread by the time Earth was consumed in a violent ball of fire.

She'd clung to that thread with the hope they could win the war.

Thessia's destruction was like a bullet that careened into the delicate web of glass; shards exploded in all directions, disappearing into the deep void of space.

All of 'Kota's strength, pride, tenacity, anger, doubts and sorrow had lingered alongside the patterns—losing Thessia had been the final breaking point.

Kaidan scooped her limp and lifeless body up and took her to bed; she just fell onto her back without a sound. He sat down beside her and leaned back against the pillows, before draping her across his chest. His arms kept her up and tightly locked in a secure embrace.

He held 'Kota's heavy head against his collar, running firm fingers through the wet mat of hair glued to her neck. "_How could you do this to yourself, 'Kota?_" He whispered, "_Why didn't you come to me?_"

Her lashes brushed his skin in slow, drawn out motions as the tears continued to fall. "_Mmnn…s'poss'd t'bee…th' th…whun ehveryy bodedep'nnddss…sohn._"

Kaidan pressed his lips against the top of her head again and again, determined to ride the drug out with her. "_We'll talk about this later—wake up first_."

She fell in and out of sleep for a while; each time forced him to hold his breath and feel for a pulse. Her back and shoulders regained tone first, then her arms and neck. She balled her fists and folded her arms below her chin, hiding her face in the side of his throat with a deep and voiceless sigh.

"_Kaidan_," Her voice was broken and scratchy. "I'm sorry. You—you didn't need to—" 'Kota's chest heaved with a ragged cough. "You didn't need to see that."

He let her go to hold her face in his hands and pull back to look at her; her gaze immediately shifted off to the side. "Yes. Yes I did, 'Kota." She swallowed hard and he felt the knot as it moved down her throat.

"No," she insisted hoarsely, "nobody should ever see me face down in a ditch like that. _Just a fucked up failure_."

"You need to look at me, 'Kota, and listen for once."

Her glazed brown eyes remained downcast. "_I can't_."

He stroked her cheekbones with light thumbs. "You have to."

"_I don't deserve to. I'm too ashamed._" The last word came out in a soft hiccup. Her bottom lip curled into her canines and he tugged it out of her mouth before she could start chewing.

"Bullshit. You're human and make mistakes—you're no more a failure than anyone else here. Now _look at me_."

She met his eyes for a split second and then tried to turn away, but he still had her by the lip. "How the hell can I? I just lost a war I've been fighting for more than 15 years. I _let_ it win—I went crawling back to it on my belly, _just like a dog_."

Her mouth stretched and tightened, but he didn't let her go—she'd just tear into herself if he did. "Even if you've been on the wagon for half a century, you can still fall off once in a while. _Accidents happen, 'Kota—it's ok_."

She lifted her head and finally looked up at him with wounded pride. "How? How can you say that?"

He found the strength to smile back. "Because I love you. _We all do_. So stop standing up there all by yourself and look around you. You say the Normandy is family, right?"

"_But I can't protect anybody if I'm weak_."

"Then draw your strength from us."

Kaidan watched as her eyes began to crease with more silent tears; shoulders jerking once, a quiet sob caught in her lungs. He grabbed her and pulled her back into a tight hug, knowing he'd struck the right nerve to get his point across.

'Kota's shaky fingers dug into the back of his shoulder while the other arm folded up along his spine. Another trembling sigh snuck passed through her lips as she forced her face back into the side of his neck.

"_Don't get scared if you stumble backwards_," he whispered into her hair, "_because I'm right behind you, to catch you when you fall_."

She coughed on a cry.

His next statement was emphasized with a kiss. "That also means that I'll be with you when you toss all that junk out the airlock."

"_Thank you._" 'Kota knit her brows against him and gave him a hard nuzzle. "_I'll need a hand to hold_."

"You've got both, 'Kota." He intended to hold on tight this time, and never let her slip out of his grasp again. They'd pick up the pieces together and he'd help her rebuild.

Only this time, it would be on a solid foundation made from the strength and love of her family—not something frail and transparent, like glass.


End file.
